Schrodinger
by theShinyBarricade
Summary: A collection of short drabbles about the life, friendships, and loves of one particular young girl. Pre-Repo. Now complete!
1. Crucifixus

_A/N: Yes, yet another pre-Repo, Marni-based story from yours truly. This is what was originally supposed to be some of the back-story in ADW, but got pushed to the back burner once I actually stared writing it. So here it is. Thank you for reading and for acknowledging the fact I don't own Repo! The Genetic Opera! Oh, and I finally got my computer to run spell-check! YAYS! (And maybe I won't abandon this one like I did My Sunshine...*sadface*)_

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><p>"<em>The best way to honor your dead is to live."<em>

She remembered hearing that before, but she couldn't say exactly where. But it seemed a good enough excuse to be here, though she wasn't quite sure that _here _is where she wanted to be...but it was away from where she had been born; away from the dead house, the dead road, the dead sky. And the first way to living, she reckoned, was to get away from the dead.

Of course, the reckoning of a fifteen-year-old girl who may or may not become an illegal immigrant in the near future may not be of the highest quality. But if you are the fifteen-year-old possible illegal who happened to just lose both parents to the recent epidemic, then you consider your reckoning and reasoning to be fairly valid.

And as for the possible-future-illegal-alien part...well, it was simply because she wasn't sure of how valid the papers she had—the only thing she had left of the dead world that she had left a thousand years before—were, and whether or not they were the right ones to get into the ever sought-after shelter of the Isle. There was the Birth Certificate, of course, (that _had_ to be at least one of the documents needed) as well as the Death Certificates of her mother, father, grandmother...the ones that would be needed the most, the ones that were to prove that Marni Shiloh Schrodinger was truly alone. The weight they had for her getting to the Isle was equal to, if not more than, the weight her own identification had.

People were more valuable dead than alive these days, it seemed, though several months ago a recently orphaned Marni, then fourteen, had decided that she _had _to live. As the only surviving member of the Schrodinger family, she just had to. And Sanitarium Isle had seemed the proper place to do it.

A good hundred-plus miles away from her home, it seemed far enough away to get a new grip on life, to start over, to forget about the toll the epidemic had further inland. But as she traveled closer to the coast, it was soon apparent that, although she had certainly left her dead behind, the epidemic that had brought them to that state was spreading everywhere. But she still went on, now in what called itself a "Community Shelter" but was more along the lines of a dung heap, and would stay there for only a few more days before trying to get into the near-sacred Isle only a few miles away.

Of course, when she first set out, she wasn't thinking completely rationally; Marni'd admit that much. She hadn't really thought of where she was going to stay along the way...or how she would get food...or even how to get to the coast. All she did was get whatever papers and documents she could find, the few hundred credits from her parent's (mainly her mother's) bank accounts, pack a small bag with some amount of food and clothing, and started walking east. After a few days of walking and only a few miles into the journey, she decided to give in and give up a few of the credits on a train ticket that took her to Crucifixus, the small port town that housed the only bridges to Sanitarium. There she would get herself in order, maybe get a small job just for a little while. And then, if all went well, the homestretch would be just a boat or car ride away.

As it was, the small job that she had planned on ended up taking care of smaller children at the Shelter, in exchange for the room, meals, and a few credits a week. And a few credits a week adds up quite quickly when you've got nowhere to spend it and several weeks to earn it. And no one else to spend it on or with.

But it's funny how life can change that sometimes.


	2. Maggie

Marni had first met the girl a couple weeks before, not long after beginning her work at the Shelter. Nothing too unusual about her; there were several people there who were lacking a working organ or two. And it didn't bother Marni too much, two weeks earlier, when a sudden onslaught of people seeking help at the Shelter crowded it so much that the girls had to become roommates. As for taking care of the girl (who seemed extremely strong-willed and self-reliant in spite of [or perhaps because of] her blindness), that was easy enough; the thirteen-year old Magdalene Defoe took care of herself well enough for the majority of things.

It's just those rare times when she couldn't that got to Marni.

They weren't annoyances, really, as much as they were callbacks to Reality, for both of them. Reality that not everyone is capable of doing everything, Reality that Marni would actually have to put some effort into taking care of Maggie. And although she didn't really mind it, she couldn't say that she was too terribly fond of how Maggie had acquired the habit of following her around, almost like a little lost puppy at times. And like a puppy and a child, they were exceptionally close, one seeming to be the caregiver though the other would put in small quantities of large homages to make up for it. This became very clear one day as they were walking through what could be called a garden somewhere near the center of Crucifixus:

"Marni?"

"Yes?"

"Are you going to go to that island?"

"You mean Sanitarium?"

"Yes, that one."

"I guess so. Eventually."

A pause.

"When?"

An even longer pause.

"Not soon enough."

Another moment of semi-awkward silence, finally broken by:

"Can I go, too?"

And that, Marni decided later, was what officially re-kindled the dying embers of her hope to get to the Isle.

At least now she wouldn't be going alone.

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><p>AN: So, how is it? Thanks for reading thus far!


	3. Feline Armageddon

Paying for two to get into Sanitarium Isle was going to take more credits then what Marni had, she knew for sure. So both girls stayed at the Shelter, counting the weeks until the safety net of at least 200 credits had been well established.

It was during this time that the experiment took place.

The experiment was the brainchild of one of the boys in the Shelter. His name was Merriam, and he was a genius when it came to Quantum Physics and theories. And being as acquainted with scientific theories as he was, he soon pointed out to Marni that she shared the surname of the great scientist whose first name was Erwin, (Marni didn't feel like mentioning to him that Erwin Schrodinger was in fact her great-great-great-uncle) and Merriam insisted that they put together a true-to-life model to test the famous theory of Schrodinger's Cat.

Maggie didn't really like the idea of the experiment so much.

The box, the heart of the contraption, wasn't made of steel, but rather of concrete blocks and plywood. Vaporized arsenic was used in place of hydrocyanic acid, and would be released into the "chamber" via an old bee smoker. The cat in question was one of the old ally cats, one that the world wouldn't really miss that much if the experiment ended up with the negative result. And if that happened, there were still plenty of kitties for them to play with.

When Experimentation Day (or Feline Armageddon, as Maggie had called it several times) had finally arrived, Marni wasn't sure that she really wanted to put an innocent old tabby through the chamber. Merriam, however, insisted that to quit the experiment now would be an "abomination of the name of Science," and they continued on with their work. The cat, who went by the name of Don Juan to those at the Shelter, was placed into the box and Merriam began to pump the arsenic into a small hole that had been left in one of the plywood sheets for that purpose. Another boy, Gabriel, looking into a small window covered with taught sheets of clear plastic, would give the report on whether Don Juan was alive or dead.

After about a minute of pumping the poison into the chamber, Gabriel called out;

"It ain't movin'."

Merriam opened the box and pulled out the dead cat. A funeral was held ten minutes later in the gardens in the center of the town. Maggie said later, in a somewhat scornful way,

"Well, if you pump arsenic into something, it's gonna die or be like Lucy Nahal."

Lucy Nahal happened to be a raving lunatic who was in a special, "Highly Qualified Staff Only" section of the Shelter.

"So let's wait until we can get some real hydro-whatever acid until we do it again, or better yet, just don't do anything this stupid again."

The other children couldn't agree more.

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><p>AN: A brief overview on Schrodinger's Cat theory: (Replace [dot] with .)

whatis[dot]techtarget[dot]com/definition/0,,sid9_gci341236,00[dot]html


	4. Entre'acte

About six years after the death of Don Juan, as Maggie and Marni were sharing an extremely small apartment that was barely a step above their places at the Shelter, was when Rotti Largo made his grand entrance. He had been in a minor, barely supporting role before, but it wasn't until Marni was twenty that his presence became better known to the girls. And although they didn't realize it at the time, the one that he seemed closer to would later be the one furthest from him, while the one that barely knew him would become his.

Life's simply ironic at its best.

Ironic in how relationships change.

In how people you don't know can end up being your love.

In how quickly fresh flowers can be simply cut off.

The last one was one of Magdalene Defoe's first impressions of the world of sight.

Yes, she knew that flowers were cut before, she knew that some were cut fairly early, but she had never actually _seen_ it happen. She had merely heard the snip of the clippers, a faint brushing as the flower fell, but had never seen it as it fell, didn't see how the grass crushed and gave way against the suprisingly heavy, rounded petals.

It was an extremely intriguing process to watch, to say the least.

For some reason, Rotti seemed to be like a large-handled pair of scissors to her. And she couldn't figure out the reason why for the life of her. She made this observation one evening at a "benefit" concert to the new Zydrate Support Network. There was just something about him...

Marni, on the other hand, didn't see how he resembled scissors (or any other household appliance) at all, physically or otherwise. She simply loved him, though, arguably, in a somewhat half-blinded way.

Again, the ironies of life are sometimes too great to bear.


	5. Finale

Marni seemed to be perfectly fine with Rotti, nearly in pure love at times, but the times that she wasn't were beginning to be more frequent and intense than when she was.

Once more, the great Irony was starting to rear its head into Marni's life.

There was a young doctor, a surgeon, who made it clear (in an unusually quiet way) that he was somewhat smitten with her, and she had to admit that she was falling for him a bit as well. He seemed like a good friend to have.

Now, if only he would tell her his name.

She had gotten it from one of his friends (although "colleague" seemed a better term) that his name was Nathan Wallace, but she wanted to hear him say it himself. Despite the saying, silence isn't always golden. And she was sick of gold, anyway.

More than once, Maggie had pointed out "how cute you and that Nathan would be together," but hadn't really pushed the issue. She didn't have to, it ended up. Nathan actually opened his mouth for once, and once communication started to flow, it wouldn't stop.

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><p>Maggie just wished that she knew exactly how she was wearing a bridesmaid dress right now. And why there was a preacher standing behind Marni and Nathan, rather than Marni with Rotti. Although, the rather rosy look on both of their faces right now were worth whatever cost her leaving Rotti was.<p>

Even Marni and Nathan sometimes admitted that they moved just a wee bit quickly. But, as Marni pointed out, sometimes it's better to do a jig than a waltz...especially when the man starts dancing with two partners. Though, to their credit, the third partner wasn't added until after their wedding.

But it was awfully quick after—less than three months, about six by the time they told Mag. This would be a fun dance, for sure. Marni was hoping for a boy, Nathan for a girl, neither really caring if they got the one they wanted, as long as he/she/possible-they were healthy. Lord knows the child would be well-taken care of.

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><p>Looking back at the past fourteen years, (God, fourteen already?) Marni almost laughed at how quickly the time had passed. Just thinking about it nearly gave her whiplash. And God knew that she had plenty time to think now.<p>

Lying sick in bed doesn't give you many options for entertainment. May as well use your thoughts.

Nathan had practically worked his ass off, mixing, trying this with that, trying to find something that could restore the strength of his wife. He had it now, it would work just as well on Marni as it had when he tested it. If only science were truely that simple.

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><p>The first thing she knows, he's standing over her, telling her to wake up and come downstairs; he has a surprise for her. She dragged herself up, and Nathan helped her down the steps, down to the basement, down to where he's set up his "office." She's realized what her surprise was, and smiles as he handed her the glass—this was the cure, this was the answer. He did it, she thinks. He's done it.<p>

She raises her glass in a mock toast, only seconds before dropping it to shatter on the cement floor.

She remembers being put on a table (or maybe a bed), Nathan crying, apologizing, trying to clean up this mess that he's made. Mess?...

There's blood. A lot of it. Is the baby alright?, she wants to ask. But she can't, she can't breath, can't move, can barely process thought. And the blood, all of that blood...and she realizes that it's hers.  
>And Shilo's. <em>Shilo? <em>If she makes it out of this, Marni thinks to herself, her name's going to be Shilo. No "h" at the end, just like how Nathan thought she had spelled it originally.

What's he saying now? She sees his lips moving, hears sound, but can't tell if he's talking or moaning or both. A cut later, she realizes that he was saying, "I'm going to get her," and "I can't give you anything, I'm sorry, so sorry...I can get you something for the pain later." Or something along those lines. She can't feel the cuts too much, she can't feel Nathan there, and now she can't feel Shilo where she should be...

She attempts to smile, realizing what Nathan's done for them.

"Shilo...Nathan, Shilo..." she repeats, until her voice mutes itself.

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><p>AN: Again, thanks for reading! Again, I don't own Repo! The Genetic Opera. And once more, I sit down on my knees and beg for reviews that this doesn't really deserve, but we'll pretend that it does anyway ;)

I think we're done here...yep...pretty sure. Glad to oblige you with a somewhat-decent story :)


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